
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3320231.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer
  Relationship:
      Rupert_Giles/Willow_Rosenberg
  Character:
      Dark_Willow_-_Character, Willow_Rosenberg, Rupert_Giles, Ripper_(BtVS)
  Additional Tags:
      drug_metaphor, kinky_smut, Basically, fuck_it's_so_kinky, I_wrote_it
      years_ago_and_this_is_unedited, I_couldn't_bear_to_reread_it, SO, sorry
      if_it's_error-filled
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-09 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3448
****** Testing That Theory ******
by WallflowerBitca
Summary
     Dark Willow. Ripper. Season 6: she goes back in time to the 70s, and
     has one truly incredible night with a young Warlock... and what will
     that mean for the young woman in the library 20 years on?
Notes
     Trying to think up a plausible reason as to why this possibly could
     have happened was very difficult, therefore I am giving you the same
     two excuses the writers on the show always did. Because: “They’re on
     a hellmouth!” and “You can do anything with magic!” This was mostly
     about the wacky dialogue and kinky sex anyway. Anyway, season 6,
     Giles confronts Dark-Mojo Willow (“I’d like to test that theory”) and
     I’m going to fast forward through the episode, just pulling my
     favourite bits of dialogue until we get to the point I want, because
     I’m SO not transcribing half an episode (so excuse jumpiness, it’ll
     still be clear and that’s not the main purpose of this story anyway),
     at which point we AU the shit out of the storyline and spell-
     wackiness-time-warp-mojo sends them for a head spin. Long story
     short, Dark Willow thinks that Ripper is hot. Which he is. ‘Cause,
     duh. Sorry about the paragraph. STORY: Testing That Theory
***** Testing It *****
“There is no one in the world who has the power to stop me now,” Willow’s lips
curled up in a cruel smirk. Suddenly she was slammed into the ground, the power
cascading through her warm yet deliciously, malevolently strong.
“I’d like to test that theory.” Rupert Giles’ voice was a low hum.
Willow lay on the floor, completely winded, but undeterred. “Uh oh,” she
teased, “daddy’s home.” Sitting up shakily, Willow let the cruel little smirk
return to her lips, her eyes almost mocking as she gazed at the man she once
respected with near-reverence. “I’m in wicked trouble now.”
“You’ve no idea,” Giles shook his head softly. “You have to stop what you’re
doing.” What was she doing to herself? His Willow, the woman he’d known since
she was just fifteen years old… she was destroying herself. He couldn’t sit
back and leave her to make decisions she’d regret. She may be an adult, capable
of making her own decisions, but he loved her just a little too much to let her
ruin any chance of having a happy life.
“Ooh, sorry. Can’t do that,” she glanced around the room. “Not finished yet.”
“Neither am I,” the Watcher replied. He swung his hand downward as she
attempted to stand. “Stay down.” And she dropped back to the floor.
“Stay down.”
“How ‘bout, no?” Willow brushed off his magical advance with a surprising ease.
Buffy paled. Had she honestly just been pulling them along, letting Giles’
spells knock her down? Where was her friend? “Remember that little spat we had
before you left?” She said, pacing slowly around Giles, appraising him. “When
you were under the delusion that you were still relevant here? You called me a
rank, arrogant amateur. Well, buckle up Rupert,” he hair and eyes rushed the
inkiest of black, and her voice began to echo with a near-otherworldly
resonance, “because I’ve turned pro.”
 
Giles was sprawled on the ceiling, writhing in pain and fear as Willow paced
calmly below him. She was right. His spell hadn’t held her forever. And now he
was alone with her.
“You’re such a hypocrite,” she spat, “waltzing in here with borrowed magics so
you can tell me, what…? Magic is bad? Behave? Be a good girl?” She looked up at
her former mentor, a slightly angry scowl gracing her inky features. “I don’t
think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, are you?” She shook her
head, smiling that same cruel little smirk, though there was a hint of
reminiscence in her eyes now, “I used to think you had all the answers. That I
had so much to learn from you. Now I see you for the fraud you are.”
Giles’ stomach knotted painfully. Was she right? Was storming in here and
attacking her with borrowed power just as bad as what she was doing? “Willow,”
he gasped.
She flicked her wrist lazily and he slammed up into the ceiling, letting out a
pained exhale.
“You were jealous,” she taunted. “Still are. Couldn’t bear that I was the one
with power. That’s why you ran… that’s why you--”
“Incurso!” he cried, a jet of energy shooting from his mouth and slamming into
her chest. She staggered back from the blow, dazed, her concentration broken.
Giles’ limp form dropped to the floor.
Willow shook her head, attempting to clear it. “Well that was…rude. Now I
forgot what I was saying.”
“Perhaps you’re…not as strong as you…think you are,” he wheezed. She gazed at
him, eyes narrowing. “You’re expending far too much mystical energy to maintain
your powers…at this pace… you’re going to burn out. And up.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” she intoned, and ‘are ya done yet?’ look on her face.
“Willow, you need…to stop…”
“What I need,” she said, her malevolent little smirk returning, nastier than
ever as she appeared in front of him instantly, “is a little pick-me-up.” She
pressed her hand into his chest, as she had done with Rack, and began to feel
his energy flow through her. It hit her like a wall, and was almost dazzlingly
powerful… but as soon as it began, everything went black.
 
Willow opened her eyes warily. She was lying in the middle of an open field,
next to a bonfire, gazing up at the night sky. What had the Watcher done to
her? What was with the whacky power trip? It was like the hallucinations Rack
would deliver…but so much more…real. She heard voices gradually drawing nearer
in the clearing, mostly male, laughing, obviously somewhat drunk. She sat up
slowly, fingers already itching with the magic that so permanently bubbled
under the surface of her skin… But she could feel a magical presence near her
too. The group of voices burst through the trees at the edge of the clearing –
they were boys, teenagers, clutching spell books and bottles of amber liquid.
And at the head of the gang was a face Willow would recognise anywhere.
“Bloody hell, who’s that?” Cried a voice. “Ripper, did you invite her? Thought
you said tonight was men only.”
“Of course I didn’t invite her Ethan,” Giles strode forward. Wow. He was so
young, maybe twenty, all swagger and ropes of muscle…and those perfect,
twinkling green eyes were still just the same. He looked Willow up and down,
taking in her black eyes and hair, the wary look she was shooting him. “Well,
well, well,” he smirked, “a black magic addict if I ever bloody saw one.”
The younger, gangly version of Ethan Rayne shot forward, dropping to his knees
beside Willow.
“She’s an addict, Ripper?”
“She reeks of it,” Giles grinned.
“Well what do we do with her?” Called one of the other men.
“Yeah, we don’t need no woman messing up the Bacchanal.”
Willow had had enough of this… talking about her like she wasn’t even there…
“Quiet!” she yelled, throwing her hand up. Instantly, the man gagged,
spluttering but unable to speak. “Where am I?”
“London,” Giles replied warily.
“When?”
“1971.”
Willow shot to her feet, her hand instantly closing around Giles’ throat.
“Whatdid you do to me?” She hissed, her fingers a vice. He struggled, but
smirked all the while. He was enjoyingit?
“Nothing,” he laughed, “I swear. Never seen you before in my life. I’d
remember, I’m sure.”
She unclenched her fingers, tossing him to the ground. That damn Watcher… what
was she going to learn, here, stuck God-knows-where in 1971 with a drunk,
magic-crazy version of the man she’d just been fighting? If this was one of
those times she was supposed to be learning an important lesson…well, she
wasn’t.
“You wanna pick a fight?” Ethan intoned, drawing up close to Willow. “Don’t you
dare shove Ripper around like that.”
“Please,” Willow scoffed, raising a hand. A small jet of energy knocked Ethan
back onto the ground.
“You insolent little--”
“Rupert,” she said softly, “if you know what’s good for you, you won’tfor the
love of Hecate finish that sentence.”
“Bitch.”
And then he was unconscious.
 
The next thing Rupert Giles was aware of was the fact that he was strung
between two trees, his wrists and ankles bound, his shirt gone. But he wasn’t
alone.
“Took you long enough,” Willow smirked, standing up walking over to him. “I was
starting to think you’d never come ‘round. Thought that 20 year old you would
at least be able to take a punch.”
“Who are you?” He asked, struggling against the restraints.
“Isn’t that just the loaded question?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve
been a lot of people in my life. This is just one of them.” She reached out,
slowly running her index finger down his lightly muscled chest, feeling him
shiver.
“I always knew there was a body under there Rupert,” she smiled. “I had the
biggest crush on you in high school… but pure, sweet, innocent little Willow
neverwould have acted on it. But,” she leaned in to him, so close that their
lips were nearly touching, “I think I’ve moved past that.” And she captured his
lips in a blazing kiss. At first he didn’t react, just hung from his
restraints, shell-shocked, but after a few moments he began to kiss her back.
His mouth was warm and firm, insistent…and it shocked Willow a little to
remember the feeling of kissing someone with stubble. She pulled back, biting
on his bottom lip as she went.
“What do you want from me?” He asked quietly. “Where are the others?”
“They’re alive…mostly,” she said dismissively. “But do you reallycare about
that right now Ripper?” She grinned, reaching up and cupping the bulge in his
pants. “You get off on this, don’t you? You can feel my power… and it turns you
on.” Her fingers began to play with his zipper. “Does it turn you on thirty
years from now as well? Fighting me, feeling my hands burning with dark magic…
does it still turn you on then, when you’re a stuffy old watcher? Do you just
hide it better?”
She tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing his dick and grasping it just a
little too tightly.
“Come on, Ripper, admit it,” she raked her free hand down his chest, “you’ve
always been bad. Just like me. Just like Faith or Anya, or hell, even Buffy…
we’ve all got darkness inside of us. It’ll never go away…” she leaned in, her
tongue tracing little patterns on his bottom lip as her hand slowly began
stroking his dick, “succumb.”
And he did. As her hot little mouth encased his dick, sinking down his shaft,
he did… he let her darkness flow into him until he felt his own body crackling
with sexual heat and great torrents of dark magic. She sucked at the base of
his cock, swallowing him, before sliding back up at lapping at the tip, over
and over again… he gripped at his restraints, moaning almost deliriously as her
mouth worked him to an impossible state of hardness.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth and knew he was close… quickly divesting
herself of her shirt, she flickered her tongue across the tip one more time as
he roared his release, hot, thick ropes of come spurting out and splattering
over her newly exposed breasts.
With a flick of her hand, his restraints vanished and he sank to his knees. But
not for long. She pulled him back up, capturing him in another blazing kiss as
his hands fumbled at the button on her pants. He began kissing down her torso,
licking his own cum off her breasts and circling her nipples. When he reached
her panties he smiled, sucking on the gusset before using his teeth to rip them
away. He placed a delicate kiss in the tiny strip of red hair atop her pussy,
before cleaving his tongue into her. She cried out, lacing her hands in his
hair and shoving his face harder into her pussy. Dear god, was that his fingers
or his tongue or… oh goddess…That would be her shrieking like a porn star then.
He had three fingers buried in her tight little pussy, completely drenched in
her juices and pumping in and out like a piston. She writhed and panted like a
bitch in heat as his tongue lashed her clit, her hips jumping and chest
heaving.
“FUCK!” She shrieked, her release punctuated by a keening scream as she
shuddered against his mouth.
He pulled back, a sexy little glimmer in his eye. He held his hand out, palm
up, and something materialised on it… a pair of silver handcuffs.
“Don’t say a word, witch,” he commanded. His rough voice sent shivers down her
spine. He grasped her wrists, cuffing one and stringing them around a small
tree before cuffing her other wrist. She was entirely bound. And entirely his.
She felt the magic prickling inside her, itching to break through the cuffs….
But no. For now, at least, he was in control. He grabbed her hips and without
so much as a ‘may I’ slammed into her from behind. His cock filled her
completely and she whimpered…it had been a long time since she’d had something
this size inside of her. He raised a hand, bringing down a hard slap on her
ass…and he felt her dewing up even more.
The black magic witch liked it rough, huh? He raised his hand and slapped her
ass again and she cried out, whimpering in pleasure and raising her ass
slightly as he rained more and more slaps down on her creamy derriere.
His hand roughly grabbed her breast, twisting the nipple as his lips closed on
her neck, sucking hard. His cock slammed into with such a force she was
shuddering and gasping with every stroke and all she could think was…why didn’t
I try this sooner?
Six years ago, would he have done this to her in the library if she’d asked?
Would he have done this without her dark magic running through them, an intense
aphrodisiac? Right now she didn’t care… because his cock was hot and slamming
into her so hard and fast she thought she might shatter with pleasure.
One hand slipped around the front, thumbing her clit and the other…
ohholymotherofgodhis thumbwas in her ass… and it felt fucking incredible. The
triple whammy of pleasure sent her sky rocketing over the edge, screaming her
release. As she did so, a burst of magic shatter the cuffs and without breaking
their connection she turned herself around, jumping into his arms as his
thrusts continued. She could feel his cock twitching inside of her and she
leaned in, kissing his neck, leaving a love bite for him to remember her by…
and he came, his come spurting into her and their combined juices dribbling
down her thighs.
She laughed, sliding off him and righting herself. “Have fun, Ripper,” she
whispered, pushing a palm to his chest. “Remember me when you meet the nerdy
little girl in the library…” And she slammed him with a pulse of dark energy,
so intense that as the world around her began to shimmer and shake, she saw his
eyes go black.
***** Nerdy Girl in the Library *****
Chapter Summary
     It's 20-something years on, and Giles recognises the small redheaded
     girl in his library as one who changed his life an awfully long time
     ago...
     SMUT.
     SO MUCH SMUT.
     THIS HAS NEXT TO NO PLOT.
Chapter Notes
     I owe you guys a sequel. Yes, nerdy Willow. Yes in the library. She’s
     at the very end of her freshman year (15), so ye hath been warned,
     this sex isn’t quite legal. Leans toward consensual non-con. Is that
     a thing? She ain’t complainin’, but she’s all magicked up, so.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The last day of school was officiallythe worst day of the year… Well, at least
it was for Willow Rosenberg. It meant no classes for three months, and unlike
Xander she couldn’t even use her grades as an excuse for summer school. She was
a freshman, so she didn’t even have any summer assignments. Just a reading list
of six measly books, five of which she’d read years ago. Still, as the final
bell for the day went, she ventured into the library to pick up her assigned
reading. Willow walked against the flow of students scrambling for the doors
and the freedom of summer, her head bowed and eyes shaded by curtains of long
mousy hair. People crashed into her over and over, they didn’t really see her,
not around here. They were focused on getting out, she was just dreading having
to leave.
 
She pushed open the big double doors to the library. Willow wasn’t really sure
if she was supposed to be in here, the new librarian had been moving in these
last few days and he seemed very reclusive. The few times she’d caught a
glimpse of him, he’d been hurrying along balancing stacks of ancient books or
polishing his glasses. She gasped as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. The
bookcases lining the walls had been moved into rows of shelves, with little
nooks filled with cushions. But you could barely see the big windows because
none of the books were shelved yet, they rested in towering piles all through
the library. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, a cascade of books and an
expletive, very British “bloody hell” from one of the walls.
“Um… is everything… is everything alright, sir?” Willow walked forward
gingerly, trying not to touch the teeter-y stacks of books, and looked
nervously into the book cage. There was a man in a tweed suit standing with his
back to her, books littered around his feet.
 

“Bloody brilliant,” he muttered, “Giles you fool… yes I’m sorry, miss,” he
started to turn around, righting his round glasses on his nose, “just having
some organisational diffi-” his eyes widened and he pushed his glasses further
up his nose, taking a step toward her. His eyes raked her body.
“Um, Mr…” Willow petered off, feeling definitively awkward under his scrutiny-
ish gaze.
He shook his head quickly, “Uh, G-Giles,” the librarian blustered. “Mr Giles.”
“Mr Giles, I’m here to collect my summer reading…” Willow averted her eyes
nervously, licking her lips. Her heart was all pound-y, though she didn’t know
why and his eyes were roaming her face now.
“Of course you are,” he breathed, “Miss, uh?”
“Rosenberg,” she filled in, “Willow Rosenberg.”
“Willow.” Turning away, he reached toward the back of the cage, taking a thick,
heavy volume into his hands and coming to face her again. “You don’t know yet…”
“I’m not knowing what?” Her big, orb-like eyes widened, and for an instance
Giles couldn’t believe that they could ever be inky black, that her tiny,
floral little body could ever – would ever! – be possessed by the black arts
the way that addict was, more than twenty years ago in the forest.
“That I remember you.”
 
Willow had never felt anything like it, not in fifteen years. As he pushed the
book into her hands and their fingers brushed, her whole body pulsed. She felt
a current run through her, deeper than arousal or excitement. It wasn’t in her
blood, it was in her, in her soul, if she believed that sort of thing. It was
dark, scary… a little electrifying. For the first, but certainly not the last
time, Willow Rosenberg wanted more.
 
And more he gave her. Her eyes darkened, shades of night under copper lashes,
and a gradual ash spread through her hair. She was vibrating, and he was
allowing the power he’d saved in that tome, 25 years of pent up magic, black,
nasty, dirty, delicious magic, pour into her fragile little body.
Finally he dropped the book, and her ink-black eyes met his. Slowly, with more
confidence than she’d ever had before, she placed her hand square in the middle
of his chest, “you remembered me, Ripper…” and as she shared her energy, his
eyes began to mirror her own.
“Fuck me.”
 
He pulled her into his arms, hand already reaching up under her dinky little
plaid skirt. His fingers burned her, literally, and as he grazed her underwear
they melted away. Liquid dribbled down her thighs, and the librarian ground the
bulge in his trousers against her thigh. She grabbed him roughly, unzipping him
in a swift motion.
Willow had no idea what she was doing.
But there was no way in heck she was stopping.
Within seconds, his dick was buried in her pussy and she was keening, shivering
against him as each thrust sent waves of pleasure and more sinister pulses of
dark energy through her body. One-handed, he pulled his belt from his trousers
and wrapped it around her wrists, quickly fastening them to the slats of the
book cage as she panted. She tugged against the restraints.
“You know how to get out of them,” he whispered.
“I do,” she repeated, and with a flick of her wrist and a crackle of magic,
their positions were reversed. His hands were bound to the book cage, bare ass
on the floor while she rode him mercilessly.
“Giddy-up,” she whispered, and shuddered her release around him.
With a burst of light, his belt vanished and he clutched her ass as he came
hard.
 
And suddenly she was mousy again. Her eyes were big green orbs and her hair was
straggly with sweat and tangled. She slid off him, shocked, confused…
satisfied. That was so wrong. She just… she just… you know… with a teacher! A
freaky magic teacher and holy moly what the hell had she just done, why the
hell did it feel so good and what in God’s name made her want to feel that way
again? She reeled back, looking at him, what had just happened? Well, the sex,
she understood that bit, but the other…?
Giles hastily pulled up his trousers, and slid closer to the confused young
woman. He placed his hand on hers, giving her the last dregs of magic he had
left.
“Forget.”
For now.
Chapter End Notes
     Do you guys want more? Just realised I started a third chapter....
     Never finished and forgot.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
